


Unexpected (GK Anon Kink Meme)

by be_a_rebel



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_a_rebel/pseuds/be_a_rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What he does find is Brad fucking Colbert, semi passed out in the fucking sun. Hippie smile all over his fucking face, like he's going to start singing fucking kumbaya any second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected (GK Anon Kink Meme)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own GK.
> 
> A/N: Written for the GK Anon Kink Meme.

It's not like he means to hunt Brad down (or okay, maybe he does, Brad shouldn't be gone so long without his Ray-Ray. Not to mention he's been waiting to sabotage Brad's first post objective jerk off for a while).

What he does find is Brad fucking Colbert, semi passed out in the fucking sun. Hippie smile all over his fucking face, like he's going to start singing fucking kumbaya any second. (If that happens, Ray's writing Rudy an anonymous note alleging where that remaining tube of astroglide went. Brad will be on his fucking own.)

Brad reaches down and grabs his crotch with one hand, right through the fabric. Ray's eyebrows almost reach his fucking hair because no way does Brad not know that Ray's right there, Brad's the fucking iceman, he can sense when a fucking fly is about to fucking empty its bowels on the Humvee. No way does Brad not fucking know.

Brad just toughens his fist and gnaws on his lip and Ray is not getting fucking hard from this, no fucking way.

Except then Brad raises his fucking left knee and parts his legs and fucking well huffs through his nose (who the fuck made that word up anyway? He always knew the Brits were a bunch of pansies) and pushes his fucking cock into his fist and Ray is all the way to hard, straining against fabric. He cringes in sympathy as Brad rocks forward again, wanting to tell him to just pull himself out and go for it Brad, your pal Ray-Ray won't protest.

But he has this fucking sixth sense, this fucking knowledge that if he opens his fucking mouth Brad's going to get up, look him in the eyes and walk off, and he's never going to get to see this again. So he stands there, sweat rolling down his neck in waves, hard as a fucking rock while Brad Colbert fucks himself in the Iraqi sun. His life is fucking surreal.

He blinks and almost misses it, the way Brad's eyebrow flutter (flutter, really?) shut, tension disappearing for an instant before he falls back, hand still tight around himself.

Ray closes his eyes, turns around and walks away. There's a new copy of Juggs waiting for him.


End file.
